Dumb Hummer

if you've ever sipped guinness
 through a cigarette filter
 or unwittingly taylored your style
 after the war footing
 of your nation's leaders
 or wore fatigues in a civilian's way
 or fit a hummer
 through the narrower streets
 downtown, seeking parking
 on a friday night,
 getting lodged in the metal wake,
 then that's you.
 but if you can dance like i do
 with no grid or arthur
 something numbered footprints,
 if you can walk right out
 the bike gate of the mccarther bart
 like parting leaves to make a path
 and don't look back
 or feel bad
 or speed up when they call after you,
 then we
 share a foam fist
 in the nose bleeds
 at the freaking circus.
 if you've ever sipped guinness
 through a cigarette filter
 or wore fatigues
 in a civilian's way
 if you've got a chain around
 your license plate
 or cosmetic gold teeth,
 i don't know you.
 if you wear first hand clothes
 and get your hair cut
 by somebody you don't know,
 i'm below you.